


World of Promise

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Gen, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Ignis wears his uniform to the funerals for Prompto and Cassia Amicitia's father, but the world has changed.





	World of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt, "Ignis is the last of the four to die, so he gets to attend 3 funerals."

Uncle Ignis wore the same crisp uniform to Prompto's funeral as he had for Cassia's dad's, and she'd bet good gil it was the same one he wore for King Noctis'. An exquisitely well-tailored antique, she thought with a pang of irritation. In the bright sun, she could see how the fabric was faded and worn in places, neat mends that spoke of terrible blows and likely hideous injuries. Back when the uniform had meant something, his Crownsguard had been able to use the King's magic to heal.

Cassia spent most of the months she nursed her dad through his final illness angry that after giving the first 30-odd years of his life to crown service, there hadn't been a drop of that magic left to save him. Not even to relieve his pain. Her mother was a great believer in the afterlife – with what happened to her family in the war, Cassia understood, but – no one should have to suffer like that. Especially not her dad, who'd been a tower of strength her whole life.

Uncle Ignis had come to stay with them towards the end, taking over the cooking and cleaning and giving Cassia and her mom the gift of not needing to worry about anything except her dad. She'd never spent much time around him. When she was little, he scared her, so tall and scarred and unsmiling, and Dad always said Ignis wasn't good with kids. They might have gotten along when she was older, but Cassia never felt the need to try. Ignis was busy with politics, while she followed in her mom and dad's footsteps, trying to restore ecological diversity after the long darkness.

When Dad died, Uncle Ignis had had a very quiet fight with her mom. He'd wanted Dad buried in his uniform, which he'd dug up from somewhere and painstakingly restored to its near-original glory, buttons and buckles gleaming, dark fabric crisp and sweeping. Mom had put her foot down, and Cassia hadn't even realized how serious the disagreement was until after the funeral, when it became clear she never wanted to see or hear from Ignis again.

Uncle Prompto had worn his uniform at dad's funeral, though. Not as well taken care of as Ignis', but still a reminder that they'd served the King with Cassia's dad. They'd left together, afterwards, Prompto collecting up all Ignis' stuff and packing his bag for him, trying to make small talk that avoided any mention of how Ignis got himself ignobly kicked out. And then they'd climbed in the truck and driven away.

Prompto still came by, with more gray hair every year, bringing new books and calendars full of the glories of Eos from one end to the other. He did a lot of work for her mom, taking pictures for textbooks and scientific studies. He had a soft spot for chocobos and would go out for weeks or months at a time, following wild herds, keeping notes about reproductive pairs and how many eggs they had, how many chicks survived.

Probably he was too old to be out doing that kind of fieldwork, Cassia thought now. But he'd had a perpetual boyishness, his personality equal parts bubbling enthusiasm and warm empathy. He was the very last person she'd have thought would fall over a cliff and break his neck, but apparently that's what happened. A search party was sent out when he didn't check in with Ignis that evening, and they'd discovered his body a couple of days later. As there'd been no note, the official cause of death was misadventure, but Cassia imagined Prompto would scoff at that, preferring to lose the _mis-_ and simply die of adventure itself.

For reasons that Cassia didn't ever want to know, his coffin was closed at the funeral. But considering that Ignis stood tall in his uniform, and Cassia's mom had shaken his hand with stiff disapproval as she'd given her condolences, Cassia figured she knew what Prompto was wearing. He'd never married, so there was no one to put their foot down as she had, and somehow...

Every kid now learned about how bad war was, and how monarchy led to war and the suffering of the people, and how the hubris of a few elite had led to empire-building industrialization and a multitude of evils and horrors. The gods themselves had demanded the death of the Last King, that was how bad the old system had been. The modern world was a better, freer place. It should be shameful to wear a uniform like that in the open, where anyone could see and judge. Eos had moved on; there should be other and better things to take pride in.

But Cassia remembered her dad telling her once, ages ago, that the reason the Usurper had been able to rip the fabric of the world apart so easily was that he'd been forgotten. _Good_ , she'd said, and he'd laughed and ruffled her hair so her beads rattled together.

"If you forget there's a danger, how can you prepare for it?" he'd asked. "Forgetting something happened doesn't mean it didn't happen, that's just self-delusion."

Cassia watched Ignis move on, working his way through the crowd. Age had stooped him somewhat, and his hair was steel gray streaked with white. His hands shook, and he probably felt the years in other ways: aching joints, weariness. Loneliness, certainly. In this room of people come to pay their respects to Prompto, hardly anyone was older than Ignis. Cassia wondered who'd attend _his_ funeral; if he had anyone he could entrust to see he was dressed properly to cross over to the beyond, where everyone who cared for him was waiting.

She made a mental note to ask him, someday; not now, when he was saying his farewells. Maybe she'd ask him about her dad as well. See if there was any value in stories from the old days, things that should be remembered for future generations.


End file.
